Lead Me Home
by iLoveMyBoy17
Summary: Mandy Prescott was a lone wolf, didn't need anybody for anything, and she preferred it that way. But what happens when she runs into Rick and Daryl in the middle of the woods? This is a story of empathy, humanity, kindness, romance, and a will to survive the apocalypse. Daryl-OC later in the story. I don't own The Walking Dead!
1. Prologue

.Prologue.

An ambulance skidded to a stop in front of Merciful Hand Hospital. The EMT's were frantic, rushing to get this person off the stretcher & into the Emergency Room. A nearby ER nurse answered the call.

"What's up?" She spat, jogging over to push the stretcher into an operating room. A young new recruit to the EMT force -he couldn't be older than nineteen- explained the mans damages.

"This bastard is lucky to be alive! He has a life threatening infection that we can't find an antibiotic for. His fever just hit a hundred and seven, his skin and eyes have begun to show some major discoloration, serious dehydration, lethargic... I could go on and on!"

"Where'd you find him?"

"He collapsed on the street and someone called nine-one-one."

"Thanks, I'll take care of it." The nurse uttered as she entered the operating room. Alone.

"Sir, can you hear me?" The man only grunted, rocking his head softly. "My name is Sara, I'm an ER nurse. Sir, can you tell me what happened to you?" The man only grunted louder, fighting slightly against his restraints on the stretcher. Sara was clueless; she had never seen an infection this serious, let alone one that didn't have some type of antibiotic cure. She hooked the man to an IV, it took quite sometime for her to find a vein due to the mans seriously low heart rate.

_'It's almost like he doesn't have one...'_ Sara thought.

"Sir, can you tell me your name?" The man had become still and silent, the heart monitor Sara had hooked up to the man was showing a flat line. Sara's stomach dropped. "Can you hear me, sir?!" Sara brought her ear closer to the mans agape mouth, the sound that erupted from there was grotesque & disturbing to say the least.

It was a boiling sound, like this man was gargling his own blood mixed with a moan of pain & a half-hearted attempt at a breath. The odor emanating from this mans mouth was putrid. It smelled of rotted flesh and dried blood. Sara knew she would never be able to erase that sound and smell out of her memory.

Sara removed the restraints, walking to a nearby counter to record the mans time of death. But suddenly, Sara felt someone move behind her.

For some reason, Sara felt a wave of goose bumps come over her. The lump in her throat, the sweat on her palms, and the nervous twitch in her leg showed that she felt like a prey animal. As she begun to slowly face the dead body behind her, the man she once thought of as dead was now standing erect!

Sara was astonished & somewhat fearful, this mans heart monitor was still showing a flat line, & yet he was standing now, right in front of her with sickening creamy yellow eyes.  
_'This isn't possible!' _Sara argued to herself._ 'You should be dead. Not alive. Dead! How is this happening right now?!' _The man cocked his head, as if studying her. His eyes didn't leave her. His arms lay limp at his sides, useless.

The man growled & hissed to himself, then he let out a gory, horrific scream before lunging at Sara. She screamed as the thing ate at her flesh, blood pooling around her and entangling in her hair.

This was the beginning of something disastrous, even though Sara didn't know it yet. This was the spark that started an inferno that would end the world in one quick flash.

The contagion had begun...


	2. Chapter 1

.Chapter One.

Mandy Prescott stalked through the thick forest, an antique dagger in one hand & a handgun in the other with only two bullets left. A crowd of walkers had ambushed her earlier when her guard was down, it took a few stabs to the temple -she read in an anatomy book in an abandoned pharmacy that it's easier to stab the brain this way due to the lack of hard bone- & a few shots of her gun to take care of them. It cost her four bullets & a twisted ankle but it was the best she could do.

_'My best isn't good enough!'_ Mandy thought, watching carefully for more of those horrific things.  
_  
'I need to be better than the best if I'm going to survive in this apocalypse. I'm nowhere near the best fighter, even though I've had more training than the average eighteen-year old girl thanks to my marine core father, army soldier mother, and World War II veteran uncle, I've been able to practice with their knowledgable guidance. But they weren't good enough to fight this virus off, so they, too, were infected.. I had the torturous honor of being the one to slaughter them; better it had been me than some stranger.  
Their blood still stains my clothes...  
A brown tank top, camouflage scarf, a leather jacket, a pair of overused combat boots, grey pants, & a knife pouch strapped onto my right hip. The smell clings to my hair, that starts off brown then fades into blonde at the end of the braid it is always contained in.  
My green eyes were stinging, the sleepiness in them was obvious. My grey backpack felt heavy even though it held little things; a few stray bullets, a compass, a __pocket watch, another handgun, a can of chicken noodle soup, and a picture of my family. The stench of dried blood was clinging to me constantly, reminding me of the sound their heads made when I stabbed them in the forehead.  
But I can't think about that now, there's something in the distance!'_

Mandy ducked into a dried up creek, it's depth would easily hide her from view. She stood just enough for her eyes to scan the horizon, watching. Waiting for whatever it was she saw out there. Then they came into view; two men.

One was tall and broad, a pistol in his steady hands. His hair was dark and sprinkled with strands of silver. A police badge shined from his belt. '_Maybe he was a cop before all of this.'_ Mandy thought, gripping her dagger tighter in her sweaty palms. She found no use for the near empty handgun, so she tossed it into her backpack.  
The other man came into view; a gruff looking guy in a sleeve-less button up and a black leather biker vest. A loaded crossbow was in his grasp, ready to shoot at the slightest unfamiliar sound. His hair was in need of a haircut, the bangs draping over his eyes. The sheen of sweat on his body defined the muscle on his arms, showing that he was more in tune with the nature of the hunt.

_'Kill or be killed.'_

Mandy repeated that phrase over and over in her mind as she stealthily hopped out of the creek bed and snuck behind the two men. She managed to follow them for a good mile or so in the hopes of sneaking into their camp, or wherever the Hell it was they came from. But suddenly, the men stopped, and Mandy froze.

She held her breath, gripping her weapon even tighter. The one in the vest held up his fist, as if to say "Stop. Don't move."

"What is it Daryl?" Asked the man with the police badge, catching his breath.  
"I fell like somethin's a followin' us Rick." Said the one with the crossbow. Mandy presumed that man was Daryl, and the one with the police badge was Rick. The three stood still as statues, waiting for any sign of a threat. When a flock of crows flew out of a tree beside where Mandy was standing, she nearly jumped. _'I'm so screwed!'_

Daryl stood still, back turned to Mandy, waiting for another out of place sound to prove his intuition. Mandy stood still as air, studying the bloodied pair of angel wings sewn into the back of Daryl's vest. _'Take those broken wings and learn to fly..'_ Mandy thought, thinking back to how her grandmother used to say that to her when she was feeling low.

Mandy lifted her foot, careful not to break the silence. She felt as though the world were made of glass, ready to cave in from underneath her. She took an overthought step closer, knocking over a rock the size of a softball.

_'Shit!'_

Daryl turned sharply, shooting his crossbow straight towards Mandy's eye. Her long years of training kicked in, aiding her in leaning back and catching the arrow in mid-flight with her free hand. Then she ran towards the three men, aiming to kill.

Rick was her first target; despite his experience as a sheriff, ho most likely hadn't even met someone with the World War II to present day army training she has learned over the years.  
Mandy aimed for Ricks throat with her knife, but he dodged it. She went to stab him in the chest with the arrow, but he grabbed her wrist before she got the chance. So she cut him on the arm, it left a deep gash. Mandy managed to punch Rick below the chin and elbow him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. After pushing Rick to the ground, she turned to Daryl.

Daryl's crossbow was so close to Mandy's that she froze in mid stance, the arrow held low and the knife held close to the chest for a quicker strike.

the two just stood there, staring at each other with such bold and serious glares that that Mandy felt a tremble grow into her hands. A flock of crows cried out, echoing in the thick silence.

"I'd like t'have my arrow back." Daryl stated.

"And I'd like to have a damn bite to eat, but we can all fuckin' dream!"

"Then drop ya knife, put down my arrow, and back up ta three steps. I don't wanna kill ya, but I won't hesitate just 'cause you a young girl!"

Mandy knew Daryl wouldn't hesitate to kill her, but it couldn't be any worse than the vast emptiness in her stomach that had lingered for more than a week. She really did want a meal, but she was too clumsy to go and hunt for food -not to mention the risk of eating contaminated animals. At the tiny cabin Mandy took shelter in, the canned food that was left behind there had long since expired and the mold inside the cans mingled with the fruit cocktail and mustard greens.  
She took her mind off of the hunger by sharpening her knives, cleaning her gun, counting her remaining bullets, going through the supplies in her backpack, carving doodles and memorabilia into the soggy pinewood with her Swiss army knife, and staring at the picture of her family until she fell asleep.

Mandy didn't want to give in to this stranger, but the hunger fogged her mind.

she knelt to the ground slowly, placing her knife and the arrow at her sides, then she slowly stood and walked back three steps. Suddenly, Rick came from behind Mandy and hooked his arms under hers. He held her to where her toes just barely grazed the leaves that littered the ground. She was trapped. _'Not good!'_

Daryl used this time to gather his arrow and Mandy's knife, studying it with fascination. "Hey! That's my good knife, give it back!" Mandy grunted.

"What's a youngin' like you a doin' with a military-grade knife?" Daryl questioned, walking over to Mandy. Ricks grip didn't suffice, despite her constant struggling.

"What's it to you, Smokey The Bear?"

"Don't sass me girl."

"Kiss my damn ass you fuckin' hillbilly prick!" Mandy spat, still fighting Ricks grip.

Despite Mandy's years of training, her words was the deadliest weapon she had. She had a big mouth and a 'don't-take-no-bullshit' attitude, so needless to say, her mouth got her into alt of predicaments.

Daryl shook his head, sucking in a breath of hot anger. "You jus' crossed the line." he stated, dropping his crossbow and drawing back his fist.

Mandy had blacked out from the blow before she even hit the ground...

* * *

**Authors Note:** Alrighty, listen! I've been too focused on school to write as frequently as I used to. So, if you're a follower of my stories, that's why. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience and I will try to write more frequently. Being a senior in high school isn't easy, so just bear with me for a bit. The next chapter for this story will be up shortly (hopefully)! Thanks for reading :]


	3. Chapter 2

.Chapter Two.

Mandy groaned and shifted on the hard surface below her. Her head was pounding & she felt off-balance, she sat up & studied her surroundings. She touched the corner of her left eyebrow, the swollen, pulsating mass there was excruciating to the touch. _'What happened to the country boys who had some damn manners?'_ Mandy pondered.

Everything was grey and smelled of concrete. It was a prison. _'How'd I get here?'_ Mandy questioned. She noticed then that a sheet & a thin pillow had been placed below her at an honest attempt at comforting her unconscious form.

"You're awake." stated a male child's voice. Mandy shot into a fighting stance, moving her hand instinctually at the pouch attached to her hip. But it wasn't there, & her backpack was no where in sight!

It was then, in that panicked state, that she noticed a young boy on the other side of a barred door. He was short -maybe thirteen- with shaggy brown hair and a gun at his hip. A sheriff's hat was thrown onto his tiny head, casting shadows over his eyes. _'That must be the sheriff's kid.'_ Even though Mandy questioned it, she thought that she already knew the answer.  
Mandy walked cautiously to the boy, keeping a close eye on his pistol. the young boy just watched her, curious to see if she was a threat to him.

"Who are you?" Mandy asked, staying a good distance away from the boy on the other side of the bars.

"My name's Carl. Who are you?"

"Mandy Prescott. Where am I?"

The boy dug through his pants pocket for a key & unlocked the door, walking in as if Mandy weren't even there.  
"You're in a prison," Carl spoke. "Or what used to be before all of this. Now it's our camp."

"'Our'? You mean there's more of you?"

"Yeah; me, my dad Rick, my sister Judith, Beth, and a bunch of others."

Mandy was dumbfounded, even though she didn't show it. She thought it was just the two men in the woods, not an entire group. She wondered how many more there were, but her skull started to pulsate all over, so she left the thought alone. She put pressure on her forehead, sat down on a cold metal chair, and leaned over in pain. Frustration. Realization. Fear.. _'When I get a hold of that damn hillbilly, I'll cut his balls off. Hittin' a woman like that, his mama must not be too proud of him! I know I wouldn't if it was my youngin'!'_

"Ah, you've come around." An elderly voice crackled. Mandy stood once again out of habit, but soon found herself tipping over to one side. "Whoa, whoa, no one's gonna hurt ya' here. Calm down." She was caught by an old man with white hair and a bit of a belly.  
"Name's Hershel Greene. That's a bad bruise you got, mind if I look at ya'?" Mandy shook her head, she didn't really care. He sat her down on the chair softly, like an uncle would do with his niece or nephew when they scrape their knee. But in Mandy's case, this old man wasn't her uncle, and her scraped knee was more like a knock out punch to the temple.

Carl sat on the edge of the table, watching Hershel as he examined the discolored and swollen flesh above Mandy's left eye. "Dangit Daryl, learn to control your anger son." Hershel grumbled as he sat a platter of food in front of Mandy; a bowl of steaming tomato soup, a handful of crackers, and a glass of water -the condensation on the glass showed that it was still slightly cold.

The aroma from the soups steam fogged her mind, it smelled as amazing and unreal as it looked. But despite the emptiness in her belly, Mandy just stared at it, refusing to eat it.  
_'This old bat probably laced this shit with something, why else would he be so willing to give it to me?'_

"What're you playing at?!" Mandy hissed, her hands stiff in her lap.

"What do you mean young lady?"

"Don't give me that bullshit! What did you lace this crap with; rat poisoning, mercury, 'date rape'.. The virus! Turn me into one a them so that you can finish me off later & I wouldn't suspect a thing? Nice try old man, but I'm not falling for your bullshit!"

"We take care a our own, child. And as long as you're still livin', you're one a our own too."

Carl walked cautiously to Mandy's side, taking hold of the spoon on the tray. "Why would we wanna kill you? That's ridiculous." Carl mumbled, getting a spoonful of soup and placing it in his mouth. "See, it's harmless." He reassured her, grabbing a cracker to dip into the red liquid.

Mandy slapped her hand around Carl's wrist, causing him to drop the cracker onto the table.

Hershel and Carl watched Mandy carefully, waiting to see if she was gonna hurt them. She didn't look at the pair, she found herself lost in her distorted reflection in the soup. It looked so good and her stomach was screaming for it. What was she supposed to do?

Mandy took hold of the spoon cautiously, spinning it around in the red liquid, mesmerized by it. She gathered a hefty spoonful and leaned her head towards it. She opened her mouth to welcome the heavenly taste and warmth, but not before she could utter the closest thing to a "Thank you." Mandy had given in a long time.

"I don't like crackers in my soup."

* * *

**Author's Note:**Oh my God! The next chapter is finally here! And more good news, I've been accepted into my dream college! I'm SO happy! But now that the worry of being denied is off my back, I can focus on things like writing more. So keep your eyes open guys. Thanks for reading and following, you beautiful people! :3


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